When You Hear Nothing At All
by stella8h8chang
Summary: Before there was Lucius, there was Igor Karkaroff. This is the story of a love which words could not express. Written with ToManyLetters' Valentines Day prompts. A series of scenes, dating between 1963 and 1979.


**A/N:** I have not set out to make money from this. I claim no ownership of the Harry Potter universe and its respective characters, or of _The Sound of Music_, which I quote at various intervals, or of Ronan Keating's song. Written for the RL Valentines Day Challenge.

* * *

_**Maria:**__ Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could…  
__**(THE SOUND OF MUSIC**_

* * *

**(Hand-Holding) September 1963**

Cissy Black stood on Platform nine-and-three-quarters holding her older sister Andy's hand and watching Bella, the eldest, strut about in her Hogwarts robes. Bella had a playmate already – Rita Skeeter – a family friend – who was equally vain about her brand-new clothes.

Their parents were busy talking to the parents of some other boy in Bella's year. The Karkaroffs, or something. She had eavesdropped enough to know that the Karkaroffs were one of the greatest wizarding families in Russia, and it was said that they could trace their heritage back to "Catherine the Great, Empress of Russia and Sorceress of the East".

But Cissy's eight-year-old eyes just saw three people – a man, a woman and a boy – with pointed faces and coal-black hair. The man had a moustache and a beard. The woman's hair was so straight it looked like a sheet of silk. The boy had a bit of a nervous, or maybe restless, twitch, and was dwarfed by his school trunk.

"Dmitri!" said the girls' father. "I don't believe you've met my youngest two before! This is Andromeda, and this is Narcissa. Girls, meet Mr and Mrs Karkaroff, and their son Igor, one of Bellatrix's classmates!"

The boy, clutching a book to his chest with his right hand, extended his left for Andy to shake.

"It's your _other hand_," snapped his father, rapping the boy's knuckles. Those four words were enough to reveal his funny accent to Cissy, who smiled, as Mr Karkaroff moved away and resumed his chat with her father.

The boy caught Cissy's look and grinned back. "Sorry," he said.

Cissy felt obligated to give him an answer. "Nothing to be sorry about, Andy and I are left-handed too!"

"I'm not left-handed," said the boy. "I'm ambidextrous."

"Oh," said Cissy, her smile fading. "What does that mean?"

"It means I can write with both." His blue eyes sparkled. "But I like my left better." The combination of bright blue eyes and black hair was strange to Cissy, but not particularly unpleasant.

"You don't sound Russian," said Andy, not happy to be left out of the conversation.

"I can do a very convincing imitation of a Russian accent," he said. "But my parents moved to England before I was born."

"Why?"

"The war," he said darkly, and the girls knew not to press him any further. They had heard stories of the war on the Continent in the decade before they were born. Hundreds had fled in fear of the dark wizard Grindelwald, who had had plans to lift the Statue of Secrecy, which kept magical people out of reach of muggles.

"_Which wouldn't have been too bad an idea," their father had muttered, warning them not to repeat this outside the house. "Mark my words, we've been suppressed and hidden for too long. But Grindelwald wanted to raise the mudbloods to the same status as purebloods, which made absolutely no sense. A mudblood as good as a muggle to your mother and me."_

Andy always knew how to change the subject whenever Cissy was awkwardly silenced.

"So, what house do you think you'll be Sorted into at Hogwarts?"

He shrugged, and Cissy realised that he was a foreigner, and wouldn't know about the Hogwarts houses.

"All of us have been in Slytherin," said Andy.

"Really?" said the boy, much more brightly. "Then I hope I'm in Slytherin, then!"

"Photo time!" shouted Mrs Skeeter, who had permed, bleached hair and bright red lips and nails. "One with all the first-years to start with!"

She shoved Rita in between Bella and Igor, and snatched together three other children – a dark, handsome boy, Cousin Kelvin, and two severe-looking twin girls, whose hair was parted impeccably. "See you in Slytherin!" she screeched, as she took the first snapshot.

"Now for the littleuns!" said Mrs Skeeter. "And the older ones too!"

"Go on!" said Cissy and Andy's mother.

They joined the growing group of children. Cousin Evan. A boy with shoulder-length blonde hair. A plump girl with a scowl. A girl with curls and glasses, towered over by a similarly bespectacled boy. A boy already wearing a Slytherin scarf. Two thickset boys.

Cissy catalogued them in her mind as they all gathered in front of Mrs Skeeter's camera.

"What kind of expression is that, Narcissa?"

"It's vacant sweetness, mother," cackled Bella. "It's what Cissy is most famous for."

* * *

**(Tears) January 1966**

Andy and Cissy had two more carefree years at home together, spending a great deal of time babysitting their tiny cousins Sirius and Regulus for Aunt Walburga, a very busy woman. Even the girls' mother agreed that it had worked out well; Andy took care of Sirius, the older one, and Cissy looked after Regulus, because, well, he was her favourite. He was a sweet baby – he was very quiet.

Unfortunately, this arrangement could not last, as the day came when Andy joined Bella at Hogwarts, and Cissy was left with a five-year-old Sirius, who hated her and had begun to express early signs of magic by setting things on fire. Just like Bella, only her flames had always been acid-green and incapable of permanent damage (in contrast again, Cissy's outbursts usually involved water and Andy's sparks).

Usually Cissy concealed her resentment better than Sirius did, but on one horrible occasion, Sirius reduced Cissy's favourite photo to ashes. It was the one taken by Mrs Skeeter on Platform 9 ¾ with Bella, Andy and the other future Slytherins (although Andy had been Sorted into Ravenclaw because she was too clever).

"SIRIUS! YOU IDIOT!" she shrieked.

Sirius looked up at her, eyes wide with horror as they glazed over.

He froze.

Regulus tottered over inquisitively and gave Sirius a poke. He had indeed been Petrified. Cissy ran through the house, shouting for her mother, tears running down her face.

"Mama! I just Petrified Sirius!" she burst into the study, quickly wiping her eyes.

"_Really?_" Druella Black sounded more curious than concerned. "Whereabouts?"

"In the playroom," said Cissy. "What will Aunt Walburga say?"

"Hush, Narcissa," said her mother, as they walked down the stairs.

She remained completely calm, and Cissy resolved to learn from her. It only took a few moments for her to examine Sirius and restore him to his usual self with a tap of her wand. "That's powerful magic, Cissy, the Total Body-Bind."

Cissy was still wary, expecting punishment.

"I wouldn't be surprised if we got a letter from Hogwarts soon. You're almost eleven, and you're clearly magically mature enough." She put a slim-fingered hand on her daughter's shoulder. "By the way, what was it that Sirius did to earn your anger?"

"He incinerated something of mine," Cissy said, truthful at first. "But…it's nothing, really…"

* * *

**(Hair) September 1966**

At last, the Black family could have a giant photograph over their mantelpiece of three girls, in black school robes, in front of the school train. One with hair like ink, one with hair like milk-coffee, and one with hair like champagne. One smiled with narrow eyes, and a contemptuous curl of her lip. The middle one had her mouth wide open and laughing, her eyes twinkling and lots of colour in her cheeks. And the last, with less of a smile than a pout and more of a lost look than anything else, stood there without the movement of her middle sister, and without the arrogance of her eldest, but with her own curious poise.

The Slytherin common room was abuzz after the start-of-term feast. Brothers, sisters, cousins and even someone's nephew were all welcomed warmly among the green and silver silk banners.

Cissy graciously greeted them all. Good old Cousin Kelvin. Rita Skeeter. She could tick their faces off from the lost photo which she had committed to heart. Lucretia and Hestia Crouch. Lucius Malfoy. Bertha Jorkins. Wilbert and Wilhelmina Slinkhard. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. But there was one left.

"Where's Igor?" she asked, scanning the room.

"Igor?" Bella screwed up her eyes.

"Oh, you mean Igor Karkaroff!" Rita exclaimed. "No, he's in Ravenclaw with Andromeda."

But there was no time for pondering; Bella had moved on. "Crabbe! Goyle! Meet my little sister!" she stooped and whispered in Cissy's ear as two burly boys approached. "You may not like the look of those two, but they're _extremely_handy to know and have around. Lucius knows _very well_."

Cissy gave them all her usual saccharine smile. But all while doing the obligatory rounds, her mind started to wander to what they'd be doing tomorrow.

Cissy wondered if McGonagall would favour the Gryffindors and dislike the Slytherins in first period Transfiguration. She was rather prim – you could tell from the way her black hair was knotted tightly at the back of her head, and the way her collar had been starched to resemble cardboard. Cissy would have to step carefully there. On the other hand, Bella had already sung praises of the fat, jovial Professor Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin and Potions Master. He had a habit of hand-picking his favourite students and doting on them – and this "Slug Club" of his included a few dozen relatives.

"What are you thinking about, Narcissa?" asked Lucius Malfoy, a handsome boy with blonde hair, much like hers, combed back and secured with a green velvet cord.

"Nothing," she said, looking into his silvery-grey eyes.

* * *

**(Rose) July 1967**

"We must hold a party!" said Aunt Walburga. "To celebrate Bellatrix and Kelvin's prefectship!"

"Mother, I'd like to invite someone else," said Andy. "The Ravenclaw prefects; I know one of them particularly well."

"Of course, Andromeda," said their mother without thinking, as she walked out of the room, arm-in-arm with their aunt, planning loudly.

"Who are the Ravenclaw prefects?" Cissy asked Andy.

"Ning Lee and Igor Karkaroff…"

"Igor Karkaroff…" Cissy repeated softly. In thirteen and a half years, Andy's voice had never faded away. Whenever Cissy might have been lost for words, Andy never was.

"Yes," said Andy, her face turning faintly pink.

"The Russian?"

"Mmm," she replied, getting up from the chair and opening a window.

Cissy was twelve and a half, and by no means dense. "Are you two together?"

"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "You never quite know with Igor. We're good friends. But I don't know if it'll only ever be nothing more than that. Besides, he's two years older than me."

"But Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion are five whole years apart!" Andy was her sister, and Cissy naturally wanted to comfort her. "I'm sure his parents will love you, and our parents will love him."

"I know," she said, now walking over to the mantelpiece, where a bunch of roses had been arranged in front of their portrait. She began to fiddle with the stems, and Cissy took this as a cue to leave her alone.

* * *

**(Swing) July 1967**

By nightfall, Cissy was bored, and wishing she had thought to invite someone, like Andy. So out into the backyard she went, even though she was too old for their cubby-house and swing-set. However, there was someone else sitting on the seat of the swing.

"I never thought you'd be one to like the fresh air," he said.

Cissy could see nothing of his features or expression; his face was entirely in shadow. Her first instinct was to ask "Where's Andy?" but instead, she said, "I don't like to go out during the daytime, because I get dreadfully sunburnt. But I don't mind the night."

"Do you want a turn? I'll give you a push," he said, getting up.

"I'm twelve," she snapped. "And a half. Just because I'm smaller than those two doesn't mean you can treat me like a child."

She pulled herself back and began to swing slowly back and forth, enjoying the balmy summer wind on her cheek. She barely heard his next words.

"You know, when I first saw you, I was sure that you had been adopted, and that you were actually Russian."

Cissy was so taken aback that she kicked her heels into the dirt, stopping abruptly. "And why would that be?"

"Your hair. You know, Russian girls have the most beautiful hair. And each of you has hair of an entirely different colour. Bellatrix and Andromeda have the same nose and mouth, but you look different altogether."

He was still using the most irritating tone which most people reserved for children not yet old enough for Hogwarts. But Cissy was exceptionally proud of her hair. It was white-blonde, so fair it took on a silvery sheen when she stood in the moonlight, and in winter she allowed it to grow to waist-length.

"Do you think Andy will be a prefect too, like Bella?"

"Andromeda?" Cissy registered Karkaroff's avoidance of her pet name. "Perhaps. There are a lot of bright kids two years below my year. It's impossible to predict these things."

"I don't see how we can predict anything," said Cissy. "Divination is the first option I'm eliminating when choosing third-year subjects."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Runes and Arithmancy, probably. They're the only respectable ones, aren't they?"

"Only to Ravenclaws," he said, with a low, quiet laugh. "Good choices; I'm doing them too. If you ever need a tutor…"

* * *

**(Kiss) May 1968**

There was only one month until exams. Unfortunately the Slytherin common room on Saturdays was living up to its reputation as a useless place to study, so Cissy had set up camp in the library, where she was fortunate enough to have the mentoring of Igor Karkaroff, who was simply brilliant when it came to everything academic. When the bell rang that evening, they left the library chattering in earnest about Swelling Solutions.

"A word with you, Narcissa!"

Bella was leaning dangerously on a column outside. Cissy thanked Igor for helping her, and he flew off to his Ravenclaw dorm to stash his books before dinner.

"Surely your Potions is not so poor that you need to be tutored by a Ravenclaw."

Cissy was tempted to make a comment about Bella's incapacity to foster inter-house relations, but she held her tongue.

Bella chortled. "Little Cissy is in love with little Iggy! Cissy and Iggy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" But then her eldest sister's expression changed from glee to concern. "Surely you can do better than _him_? His family were big in Russia, but over here…mama always said you were the pretty one…"

"Why?" The thought of telling the truth about their nonexistent relationship crossed Cissy's mind, but Bella was inviting an argument, and would not be satisfied until she had bothered the socks off her opponent.

"For starters, his nose is as big as Professor Prince's."

"Well his hair isn't half as filthy," Cissy said, in the expressionless tone which Bella hated the most.

"He's as skinny as a fence-post."

"So am I."

"He is steering dangerously close to monobrow territory."

"He has nice eyes though. Very blue."

"I don't see what you see in him."

"I don't expect you to."

"What's this about?" A cheerful voice came bouncing around the corner. Unfortunately, Andy had stumbled upon her two sisters bickering in the hallway, and was only too enthusiastic to play the mediator.

"Narcissa is dating Igor Karkaroff."

"I don't believe it," she replied briskly. "Cissy's a kid. Why, Karkaroff's in fifth year! It's ridiculous. Who's been spreading these rumours? You two are making a fuss out of nothing. Cissy, go back to your common room."

"Andy, speaking of Karkaroff, I have some news that might interest you."

Andy's eyes grew as round as dinner-plates. "What?"

"You know how the Dark Lord came recruiting?"

The younger girl sighed, thinking it had been something more important. "How could I not know – you've talked about nothing but your Lordship."

"Well, I heard he asked Karkaroff if he wanted to join when he left school."

"But I thought he was only looking for students from his house, from Slytherin?"

"And, Karkaroff didn't give him a straight answer!"

"And…this would interest me, because…?"

"You do not refuse the Dark Lord! It is bringing a death sentence…"

"Bella, it's the nature of Ravenclaws; they take a long time to deliberate. I think you're mad."

"I think Cissy is mad."

"Where is Cissy, by the way?"

* * *

**(Heartbreak) November 1969**

The day after the Halloween Feast was a Saturday.

Cissy lay by the lake on a cushion of freshly fallen leaves, with the taste of fresh pumpkin still in the back of her throat. It had taken two years for her childish crush to mature and amount to anything, but time had only made things sweeter. Fourteen and a half she was, and savouring the memories of her first kiss. She might have been lying still under that tree, but her insides were dancing about, screaming for joy. Who would have guessed that feeling so completely muddled-up could in fact be the best feeling in the world?

"Hey Narcie, I think that cloud looks like a ship," said Igor, who was also lying on his back, looking up at the sky. He called her "Narcie" because he couldn't comprehend the appeal of being called a "Cissy".

"I wouldn't know," said the girl. "It all looks like vanilla ice-cream to me."

"Why vanilla?"

"I hate chocolate," she said, screwing up her face.

"Why?"

"I don't know. It seems so tired. All those clichés like '_I can't live without chocolate'. _Or '_She had chocolate-coloured eyes'._ Or, '_Life is like a box of chocolates – you never know…_'"

He laughed a guttural laugh that made her squirm delightedly.

"No really," she continued, "It breaks my heart to see how misunderstood and unfairly persecuted vanilla ice-cream is."

"Oh, don't talk about things like that," said Igor. "Like heartbreak, or misunderstandings, or persecution…not today…"

"Well then, what shall I talk about?"

He shrugged, his usual quiet self again.

"How we have one more month before winter is upon us?"

He started to hum a bright little melody.

"What's that – the latest offering from that Lubiantsev fellow?"

"No, actually, it's from – now don't say anything – a muggle musical…"

She bristled, but said nothing.

"…called _The Sound of Music_; it goes, '_girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes, silver white winters that melt into springs…these are a few of my favourite things…_'"

He wasn't a great singer, but Cissy could tell the tune was catchy. "Where'd you hear that?"

"The Ravenclaw common room, of course."

"Sing me something else," said Cissy.

"_You wait little girl, on an empty stage, for fate to turn the light on…"_

The question of the title was barely in her head before he had answered it.

"…_you are sixteen going on seventeen_…"

"That's not quite appropriate, is it?"

"I suppose not. But you've always seemed older than your years; I suppose it comes of having two older sisters."

But Igor ran rings around her sisters when it came to understanding.

* * *

**(Break-Up) March 1970**

"Narcie…

Narcissa and Igor had had four months before the NEWTs intervened.

"…you know how brutal the NEWTs are…they're nothing short of their name…"

Cissy had seen it coming, naturally. He'd started losing sleep – and weight, by the looks of it – over the impending doom of the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. Bella, who was also subject to the exams at the end of seventh year, had stopped harassing people, which had never happened before in Cissy's living memory. They all needed a break of sorts. This wasn't a break-up, it was more of a break.

"Shh, don't say anything," she said, putting her finger to his lips. "You say it best when you say nothing at all."

Of course, she'd regret it heartily later, cutting him off like that.

* * *

**(Box of Chocolates) February 1971**

"Someone…told me to give this to you, Cissy," said Wilhelmina Slinkhard when she came down to the common room on the morning of February the 14th. The other girl held out a small box. Upon removing the lid, Cissy discovered that it contained a variety of Honeydukes chocolates, and a bow made of green velvet.

Cissy thanked Wilhelmina and retreated up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

Lucius Malfoy was now of age, in his sixth year, a prefect and, of course, extremely popular. He was the only child of Claudia Rookwood and Abraxas Malfoy, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, both Death Eaters, followers of the Dark Lord like Bella. But while Bella was usually sent on missions to take care of rebels, the Malfoys worked as spies, reporting on the Ministry. They lived in Wiltshire, in south-west England, in a three-hundred year old manor named after them. Everything about him, from his smooth alabaster forehead down to his shiny shoes, and his gift, was perfect.

Except that he didn't know that she hated chocolate.

_Which was, really, really, insignificant, wasn't it?_

Her birthday was coming up in two weeks, and for some reason, a most peculiar tune had popped into her head. _You are sixteen, going on seventeen, baby, it's time to think…_

She asked Casey Jugson, a Ravenclaw in her Arithmancy class who was rather fond of singing, how the rest of the song went. It turned out to be a duet between a girl and a boy, with the girl singing lines like:

"_I am sixteen going on seventeen; I know that I'm naive_

_Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet, and willingly I believe…"_

And the girl's last words really forced her to think:

_I need someone older and wiser…telling me what to do._

_You are seventeen going on eighteen; I'll – depend – on you._

* * *

**(Hug) June 1977**

She hugged her sister Bella. It would be the last time they would ever exchange such an intimate embrace. "Careful, Cissy, you're standing on my robes! Oh you queer, little, dreamy thing…"

"So it will be your turn next then, Narcissa dear!" said Aunt Walburga, who had taken to fussing over Cissy in the aftermath of Andromeda's and Sirius' disownment. Andromeda had married a mudblood, Ted Tonks, straight out of school, and Sirius had simply left Hogwarts at the end of his fifth year and not come home.

"Oh, Aunt Walburga!" said Cissy, knowing precisely what the woman was referring to. For the past few years, she and Lucius Malfoy had maintained a bizarre on-off relationship, owing to how busy he was. As soon as he had left school, he had been welcomed into the Dark Lord's inner circle, and given a junior post at the Ministry. By day he dealt with paperwork, and by night dissenters. To show for his efforts, he had a dashing tattoo of the Dark Mark on his forearm, just like Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus Lestrange.

She quite liked Lucius. He always flattered her when he was around, and he really had an eye for presents. He was one of the few things which her mother and Aunt Walburga agreed on. "_What a catch that young man is!"_ The wedding bells in their ears refused to cease.

Bella's wedding was a splendid affair, held in the Lestranges' mansion, with over a hundred guests. Most were family of varying distances. Cissy's eyes scanned the room.

"Reg!" she called out to her favourite dark-haired teenager. "Still too old for that nickname?"

"Are you still too old for hugs?" he asked brightly, turning around and into her arms. He was getting unnervingly tall; he was not yet quite sixteen, and already six feet tall. "You'll never guess," he said excitedly, "Bella said she's going to introduce me to the Dark Lord!"

"But…you're not of age…you haven't left school yet…?"

"That's not a problem," he dropped his voice. "They can arrange it so I have the Trace lifted early."

"Oh," said Cissy. But enthusiasm was beaming off his face, and it intoxicated Cissy as well, as she listened to his wonderful dreams.

"…and Karkaroff," he finished triumphantly. "In fact, speak of the devil, there he is now!"

"What's he doing here?" Cissy flinched at the sight of the dark young man on the other side of the room.

"I 'spect Bella invited him. You know, being in the same year, and all."

"Oh, right," said Cissy, running after him. "Hold my drink – I just – I'll be back in a second – please?"

He was making his way towards the doors out of the great ballroom, as if he knew she was pursuing him. "Are you leaving already?" she called out.

As he turned around to face her, obviously recognising her voice, she noticed the funny little beard he sported, that only accentuated his funny little chin. His black hair was longer, almost curly. How she'd missed his high cheekbones and narrow mouth! A million emotions welled up in her.

"I can't stay," Igor said, paling. "I've got a job tonight."

The waves of emotion broke their containment, and she started to babble, just to keep him talking. "What about the music? Rodolphus loves music! Just one dance? For me? You always were such an adorable dancer…" she coloured at the words that had escaped her.

"I'm sorry – Narcie – I can't – don't make me feel any worse than I already do."

Cissy had never seen him more miserable in his life.

"I can make you forget," she said, holding his hands now. "We can go back to…"

"Narcie, we can never go back." Suddenly, she was struck by his gaunt face, which seemed to have forgotten how to smile. "There's nothing you can do. Sail on, silver girl."

* * *

**(Ring) February 1979**

Cissy knew that her twenty-fourth year was not going to be an auspicious one, from the way it had begun. Firstly, her father had passed away in his sleep.

Secondly, little Regulus had deserted them, bringing a death sentence upon himself. And she should have spoken up; she should have begged them to give him more than a few days. She, Narcissa Black, had been like an older sister to him, she could have turned him back, renewed his faith in the Cause…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a hysterical scream.

"My boy! My only son! Dead!"

Cissy was staying at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Now, she was the only one who could comfort Aunt Walburga, rendered bedridden since the news of Regulus' death – Kreacher the house-elf was similarly inconsolable. Cissy didn't mind; it took her mind off other things. But the Dark Lord's envoy, Lucius Malfoy, had not mentioned anything about Regulus' defection to his mother – in fact, he had warned Cissy specifically to be discreet – and Cissy couldn't help but admire his sensitivity.

But for now, she sighed a sigh that no-one could hear, and held onto her aunt's bloated hand.

At last, Aunt Walburga drifted off into her morning nap, and Cissy was free to wander the house. Well, it was more like, to wander into Regulus' room, where she could imagine she was back in the safety of her common room, with its green and silver hangings. There she dared to unfurl and re-read the Daily Prophet article that had been the most recent blow.

_DEATH EATER GIVEN LIFE SENTENCE_

_In an unprecedented move, Death Eater Igor Karkaroff has been condemned to Azkaban for life without a trial, despite no definite link to any of the most recent deaths and disappearances._

_Mr Bartemius Crouch, who recently replaced Abraxas Malfoy as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, spoke confidently to the Prophet yesterday. _

"_It is just one of the many ways the Ministry is proving it is willing to fight fire with fire," he said. "Just one of the many new, tougher strategies we are implementing, among the new licences awarded to Aurors, the zero-tolerance policy when dealing with Death Eaters…"_

Cissy heard the doorbell go off, and hastily threw the newspaper underneath Regulus' bed before going to answer it.

"Happy Birthday, Narcissa," said a low voice coming through the redundant keyhole of the door. "May I please come in?"

Cissy swung it wide open, glad for some contact with somebody within five years of her age, but regretting it instantly as the winter wind blasted her with snow. "Hello Lucius," she said. She knew his sweet, cool voice, higher than Igor's, anywhere. And without being conscious of it, she had – fallen – there was no other word for it – into his arms. They were firm and strong, unlike Igor's thin ones. They gripped her tightly.

"I heard about Karkaroff," she said. "No trial. No evidence. Apart from the Mark on his arm, Nothing! You must be so – so worried – what's happening to us?"

"We'll be all right," said Lucius. "I know it must've been terrible – first Regulus and now this – but I promise, this time I have something nice to say."

"What news?" she demanded, clinging to him. She was beginning to feel the cold and she was afraid her teeth might chatter. "What news on the plans for Hogwarts?"

"If you don't mind," he said, "I think we should both get out of this abominable weather."

"Of course," she said, letting go of him at once and taking a step back through the door.

"Are you sure you don't want to be carried over the threshold? The Romans thought it was good luck."

Cissy allowed herself to be lifted, one behind her back and one under her knees. Lucius was as resplendent as always. As he walked down the corridor to the kitchen, his winter robes billowed about him, and he looked unruffled, even the snowflakes on his eyelashes seemed to sit comfortably.

"Narcissa, I've thought about this really hard; I know to you it might feel like it's all happening too quickly, but in uncertain times like these…"

Cissy drank in every word that passed his lips like a draught of hot butterbeer. And when she saw the ring in his hands, she saw strength and security, and everything she ever wanted, encompassed in that tiny, sparkling blue diamond, so unlike Igor's eyes.

* * *

_**Liesl: **__Mother, what do you do when you think you love someone? I mean, when you stop loving someone or he stops loving you? _

_**Maria: **__Well, you cry a little. Then you wait for the sun to come out. It always does._

_**Liesl: **__There are so many things I think I should know but I don't. I really don't. How can you? Sometimes I feel the world is ending. Then you feel it's just beginning? _

_**Maria: **__Yes! It was that way with me. And for you it will be just as wonderful. _

_**(THE SOUND OF MUSIC)**_

* * *

**What happens _When You Say Nothing At All?  
_I lose my will to write and bawl.  
So, dear readers, I beg of you,  
Please do say something in a review.**

**And if you wonder how this tale ends  
If Narcie and Igor made amends  
Then look no further than "Silver Girl"  
Where you'll find a bit of dirt can yield a pearl  
**


End file.
